Chapter 16: The Man Who Sold The World

"Hold up, Five! My superb fitness levels have fallen a bit recently," Simon yells before forcing out a laugh. "Funny that. Never would've imagined getting beaten half to death would've had a negative effect on my stamina."

"Leave me alone!" I scream, running as fast as possible to get away from him. I can't think properly. It's taking everything in me to remember how to breathe correctly.

It's him. It's Simon. He's alive. Oh, God, he's alive.

I can't look at him. I don't want to. All I want is to get as far away from him as possible. That dream I had can go suck it for all I care. I can't be around him, not after what he's done. I cannot-I will not-let him back in.

"It is me, you know-your old mucker, Simon," He says. Anger boils my blood, and hurt floods my veins. How dare he act as if this is a meeting between old friends! How dare he! "I would take the mask off, only I don't think you'd wanna see what's underneath. There's enough nightmare fuel for everyone these days as it is, isn't it? No need to give you any extra."

I can't look back at him. Seeing him in this condition... I can't look at him because if I do, I'll feel... I'll feel sorry for him.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I know I will though. After the initial shock wore off a bit-I still am pretty shocked-I finally realized the condition he was in. I finally realized this was my friend who was in this condition and I sympathized for him, as if he didn't deserve what happened to him.

But he did. He deserved it all. He deserved to die...

So why do I feel slightly happy knowing he's alive?

That's how I know I can't look back at him. For some reason, I can't stay angry at him, not while he's here. It was the same way with Katelyn and Anna. If I would've stayed at the AMTB, I would've forgiven her.

They're my weakness.

I can't let myself forgive him that easily... no matter what my dream said.

"For God's sake, Five," Simon laughs. "Stop running away. I've been tryin' to get you alone for weeks. I've got some intel you're gonna find very interesting about a certain someone. I'll give you a clue: rhymes with Pan Dark."

I keep running.

"Five, I'm not kidding... Never mind that now. Just listen to me. You're going the wrong way. You can't hear Sam because the Deadlocks have got a signal blocker, and you're runnin' slap bang into an ambush. You need to turn left. Left!"

I go right. I can't trust him... not anymore.

"Fine. Suit yourself. Don't say I didn't warn ya."

I don't listen to him. I just keep running, letting out a sigh of relief when I no longer hear him calling out to me.

Now I understand why I was so angry in my dream. I understand why I was so upset. I think I know why I didn't recognize him  in my dream too. Because if I did, I wouldn't have come in the first place.

We'll have to find that base another way. I'm not going to accept any help from him, no matter what my vision says. He's a liar and a traitor who I cannot trust, and I know if I go with him, I'll let my guard down; I'll listen to what he has to say because for some reason I still care about him... a lot.

And if he sees that, he'll use it to his advantage, just as he has with everything else.

I tap my mic. "Sam? Sam, can you hear me? Sam, please come in."

I take a look around, no longer having that sense of familiarity with this place. I have no idea where I am or how to get out of here. I'm lost and alone.

I'll find a way out. Shouldn't be too hard, right? Sam should come back in through my headset once I get out of range of that signal blocker. After that he'll tell me how to get back home.

...That doesn't even sound convincing in my head. But it doesn't matter. I'll find my way out of here eventually. It's still early, and I have an axe and a gun with me, so I won't have to worry about any zombies-not that I've seen any-and I've lost those Deadlocks. Maybe they decided to go after Simon instead.

He'll be fine. If he's survived this long out here, the Deadlocks shouldn't be too much trouble. Better him than me, I suppose. Heck, since he's been around these areas and is able to travel so much, the Deadlocks might not even go after him because they might've struck a deal or something.

A part of me doesn't want to believe Simon would make deals with people like the Deadlocks, but I don't know what he's capable of anymore, and I don't want to talk to him to find out.

I look down at my gun. I fired this weapon at him... Maybe now he knows what it feels like to get shot at by someone you thought was your friend.

"Get her, lads!" A voice calls out.

What the-

Bullets fly past my face, inches away from taking out another chunk of my ear. My heart stops in my chest.

Oh, my God. He was telling the truth.

I start sprinting as fast as I possibly can, my eyes darting around, trying to figure out where I can hide-where I can run.

"Give it up, pal!" Another voice shouts. "You're surrounded!"

There's the sound of gun fire, then a stinging pain across my right cheek. Hissing, I bring my hand up out of reflex. Warm liquid is on my fingers when I bring it down to inspect it. It's just a scratch, thankfully.

"That was a warning, Abel Runner! Next one goes through your head!"

So this is what I get for trying to change God's plan... Certain death.

There's another gunshot, but it's not aimed at me. Up ahead, I see one of the Deadlocks that was hiding behind a tree fall down-dead. Somebody shot him.

"No, I don't think so."

I spin around, looking towards a clump of bushes. Simon fires his weapon again, taking down another Deadlock. He ducks down a second later to avoid being shot.

He... came back for me.

"Who the hell is that?" One Deadlock asks.

"I don't know. He's wearin' a mask."

Simon beckons over to me, and I take this opportunity to sprint over to him. I trust him about as far as I can throw him, but still, he came back to save me. And apparently God doesn't like me trying to change His plans, so I'll just see if the dream I had plays out-for my life's sake.

"They're gettin' away! After 'em!"

I reach the bushes, but we don't stay there long. He quickly starts running down one of the dirt roads, and seeing as I don't have much choice, I follow.

"I've been practicin' my marksmanship," He says. "I hope you're impressed. Stick with me, and I'll see you're safe. I'd give you my word, but you know what that's worth, don't ya?"

I don't answer, and he sneers at me because of it. "Yeah, I know what you think it's worth."

I look down, unsure what to say. What can I say? None of this makes sense. This all feels so... odd. He's alive and here and I don't know what to feel.

I mean, I'm angry as hell, since this asshole did shoot me at one point. I'm hurt because he was my friend-one of my closest friends-and he betrayed me. He betrayed Abel.

"This way," He says. He puts his gun away, and with the only hand he has, he reaches back and grabs my wrist. Maybe it's out of habit, maybe he's trying to get me to let my guard down... but I can't trust him just yet. I've never ripped away from someone so fast.

I guess it's a good thing he's wearing that mask. It makes it harder to see much of the hurt that's showing in his features. But he doesn't say anything. He just keeps moving.

I look down at my wrist, frowning. I never realized how much I missed that. I didn't realize how much I missed him.

Damn it, Simon.

Gunshots take me out of my thoughts, and I flinch. They're farther away, but one lucky shot and a good aim means both of us are dead.

"Not in the clear yet, Five-o. We're right in the heart of Deadlock territory. They've got the whole area from the river to the industrial estate locked tighter than a gnat's chuff," He laughs. "Lucky for you, I've explored a few backroads, if you know what I mean."

His smile fades when I keep my gaze ahead.

"Silent treatment then, is it? Yeah, I know. That's just how you are, although you must have a thousand questions. Like 'How come you're still alive, Simon?' 'Didn't Jaime beat you to death, Simon?' 'Why have you only got one hand, Simon?' 'What happened to your face, Simon? What the hell happened to your face?'"

"Are you going to shoot me this time around, Simon?"

His eyes widen at the malice in my voice, then he frowns. "You know, I actually wasn't expecting to hit you. You know how terrible of a shot I used to be. I was actually pretty shocked when you fell over. I thought I'd killed ya."

"If that bullet hadn't, the water would've."

There's a pause, and I understand something. He knew either way my blood would be on his hands, but at least in Abel, he wouldn't have to see us die.

"You know, I really did think Jaime was gonna kill me, but that's not his way." He says, shifting the subject slightly. "Oh, no. He's too bloody moral. Just a few punches, a kick in the stomach. Don't know why he didn't call the whole hog and slap me. Like he couldn't even be bothered to do it properly; Like he didn't think I was worth it.

"Then he heard the zoms comin'. Do you know what he did after that, Five? Do ya?"

I shake my head, a bit afraid of that tone of voice he has. It's like... crazy mixed with bitterness and hatred.

"He took that baseball bat down by my right hand. 'That's more chance than you gave us,' He said, all high and mighty. Then he ran off and left me to the zoms... I couldn't see the point, Five. Couldn't see any reason to fight 'em off. I thought I'd just lie there and let it happen."

He turns to look at me, eyes wide with emotions I can't explain. "And then they were on me-all great horde of them, gray and rottin' and stinkin' to high heaven. My God, the smell of them. You've never known pain like it. It went on and on and on, worse than I could've imagined. And then it went on some more.

"I don't know how long it was before I realized it wasn't endin'; I wasn't dyin'." He looks down at himself. "I don't think I can anymore. How funny is that? I got exactly what I wanted and all it cost was everything that mattered."

I blink, unsure what to say. It feels oddly nice to know that Abel matters to him. Or it did. It did matter to him. I'm not sure any of us do anymore.

"It was too late by the time I knew. My left hand was gone, and most of my face." He shrugs. "Anyway, look at me, babbling on when there's a Deadlock checkpoint up ahead. You can be sneaky, can't ya, Five? You and me. We can sneak past them together, just like old times."

"Yeah," I whisper in a sad voice, "just like old times."

•

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Simon grins. "Out on the run again, enemies on our tail, freedom ahead, a song in our hearts-probably Abba. And uh, oh, yeah. You might want to duck."

I send him a raised brow, but then nearly fall on my face trying avoid the rotting arm hanging from a tree.

"What the hell?" I say, tensing up.

"Should've warned you earlier," He says in what I'm guessing is an apology. "It's my perimeter defense."

I take a look around, my jaw dropping. It isn't just one arm tied to the tree; They're everywhere. Arms and a few legs all tied up around trees. Some look fresh-well, as fresh as a zombie body part can get, but others are nothing but bone. He's been doing this the entire time he's been gone.

"Keeps out all the Deadlocks, and the Deadlocks keep out any of the undesirables, leaving me safe and hidden in the heart of their territory. Clever idea if I say so myself."

I hum, not quite ready to agree with him, even if he's right. It is clever. Gross, but clever.

"Do ya like it? My forest of limbs? As you've seen, it's mostly arms, but I hand up the occasional leg too, for variety. It's pretty handy." He laughs. "Get it? Handy, you know... hands."

"Oh, my God," I murmur. "Your puns have gotten even shittier than they were before. I didn't even know that was possible."

That just causes him to laugh harder. "I've been harvestin' 'em for months now. It's a hobby. Helps fill up the long, lonely days. It's not like they can hurt me. I think I'm immune. Van Ark's treatments, they were always unpredictable. One person it'd kill, another person would get the exact same thing and they'd end up with bloody superpowers, or near enough.

"He says it was retro viral-different for each individual's DNA. Never found out exactly what it did to me. Just let him give me the jabs and hoped. Crazy when I think about it now. Benefit of hindsight, aye? He treated you too, didn't he?"

I nod. "Against my will, yes. He said it was a new version of it or something. I survived one cycle. Got away before he could do anything else."

"I wish I could tell ya what he did to ya, but I don't think even he knew. Still, time will tell; Time always tells." Suddenly he grabs me and yanks me to the right, away from an burnt out oak filled with twitching zombie body parts, some of the skin burnt and some rotting. "Watch out there."

"What the..." I look at him with a pinched face. "Is there any other weird zombie body part thing you've made that I need to know about?"

He grins. "Maybe."

I look back at the tree and grimace. "Where did you even-"

"Fished 'em out of a fire, still twitchin'."

"Yeah, I see that."

"Hideous, isn't it?" He questions with a somewhat crazed grin. "Not like me. I used to think I was so perfect. The body beautiful-that was me. All those days at the gym, the tanning salon. Even had my chest waxed once... None of it mattered though. It didn't stop what was goin' on inside-what the gym and the tan couldn't touch. Every moment in that perfect body of mine, cells were dividing and dividing until someday, just one of them, just one... that's all it takes, and then suddenly you've got your own death growin' inside you."

My eyes widen. Is he saying what I think he's saying?

"And then you beat it, and you feel like it's all going to be okay... until it comes back. I was pretty in the outside, but on the inside, I was just rotting away. Probably a moral in there somewhere, if you're a person that believes in that kind of thing."

"You were dying." It's not a question.

He rolls his eyes. "Give the lady a medal."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

He doesn't answer, but the look he gives me, even though I can't see most of his features because of the mask, is a look that is equivalent to a slap across the face. Even if he did tell us, what would we be able to do? New Canton has more medical knowledge than Abel, but even they couldn't help much.

Even before the apocalypse, there were people who died from cancer. That's when we had some of the best technology-the best doctors. We don't have that now.

That's why he betrayed us. Van Ark was the only one who could help him...

Or is that only a part of it?

He seemed very excited on the thought of being immortal when he talked to Jaime. Even if he hadn't had cancer, would he still have betrayed us?

We leave the trees, but Simon grabs my arm as soon as we do. I pause and he gestures down to the ground, where I hear growling.

Zombie heads, lying all around, still moving. Still... alive.

"What?" I murmur, but he pulls me through them. I have to watch every step I take.

"Don't think you're out of the woods just because you're out of the trees. There's still my little mine field to get through. Can't let these zom heads go to waste."

"How are they still-"

"Alive? I left the spinal cords attached so they can still bite. Don't want you getting infected, do we?" He looks me in the eye. "They'd shoot you, you know-all your friends at Abel. First hint of gray, first little cough and it's bang! They turn on you so fast, even the ones you... Jenny didn't hang about, did she? First suggestion I might not be 100 percent kosher and she breaks out the uzis."

I wonder if I should tell him. I wonder if I should tell him how Janine was sure I was the traitor and he was innocent. But he never gives me the chance.

"And what about you, Five? Did it give you a little pang? The tiniest bit of twinge when you heard I'd turned to the dark side?"

"Didn't have a chance to process it," I reply while stepping over a zombie head. "You shot me before I could question you about it."

He scoffs. "So, no. I didn't think so. You all knew it. You sensed it-what I'm really like. 'Wicked to the core.' That's what my Gran told me when I was eleven and she caught me sneaking a cigarette outside the school gate. 'Ripe with sin.'"

I flinch at the mention of his grandmother, and I instantly look at his shoulders. The scars are covered with ragged clothes, but I know enough from what he's told me. I think that's why I trusted him so much. We told each other things. That's why it hurt so bad when he betrayed us.

But he wouldn't believe me if I told him it hurt. No, he's too wrapped up in his own self-pity.

"You'd have done it though, Five. Wouldn't you if you had the chance? Immortality. Who wouldn't? And Van Ark didn't ask much. Just a little bit of intel, a little sample of our anti-zombie spray. Where was the harm in that?"

"Where was the... How can you ask that?" I screech, which causes the heads at my feet to growl. "Oh, shut up!"

I kick one, watching it fly like a soccer ball. Then I glare at him. "People died because of you."

"I didn't know Archie was gonna die," He argues, a scowl appearing on his face. "I liked Arch; She was fun. You were all gonna die anyway, sooner or later. No one escapes the zoms forever, so what did it matter if I rang your bell a little early?"

The words stab at my chest, as if he shot me all over again. I look at the ground, trying not to blink away the tears that are starting to well up in my eyes.

"I could take a few days off your lives in exchange for centuries of mine-millennia. It seemed like such a fair exchange." He sighs, and his grip on my arm tightens. "It's amazing, Five, the things you can make yourself believe."

I don't say anything. I can't find any words to say really. My chest is tight, and tears clog my throat. I'm glad it only takes another minute to get out of that zombie head area. My vision is staring to blur from the tears and I don't want to be bitten because of my stupid feelings.

I hate him. I hate myself because I don't hate him. I hate the fact that he can hurt me so easily. I leave Katelyn and I get Anna in Mullins. Anna leaves me and then I go to Abel and get Simon. They're like kryptonite.

They can destroy me over and over again and I'll let them. I hate them and yet I miss them every damn day.

I have to get away.

My eyes dart from this way and that, looking around for anything that looks familiar. I don't want to see this dream through. I want to go home. As soon as there's a pathway out of here, I'm bolting.

We haven't seen the Deadlocks in awhile, meaning they might have given up on us. I would if I were them. The 'Forrest of Limbs' as Simon calls it would be enough to turn me away.

The silence isn't normal. It doesn't feel normal for us. Before, when we were still friends, we weren't usually quiet unless it was an important mission or one of us was feeling down. Other than that, we were constantly chatting. Most of the time it was Simon telling a terrible joke and me not getting it until five minutes later.

I miss that...

But those times are gone, and they're never coming back.

Simon notices me looking around, and frowns. "Been awhile since we've seen any Deadlocks. Startin' to get edgy, Five? Your grabbin' your backpack strap like you're nervous."

I look down, seeing what I've done subconsciously. I let my hand fall back down to my side. "I'm fine."

A laugh leaves his lips. "You forget, we used to be friends. I know you. You look like a person who's startin' to think that maybe you don't need old Simon anymore. Use me and throw me away, right?"

He doesn't give me the time to reply. "It's okay. I understand. I wouldn't trust me either, but I do need to talk to ya."

"I..." My throat is clogged. No words seem to be able to come out. We come to a stop near a weeping willow beside the stream.

"Here we are... So, this is it, Five. Make up your mind time. Stick with Simon after all he's done for you-after he saved you from the Deadlocks and led you right through the heart of their territory, the only scratch on ya being because you didn't listen to him-or toss him aside and go back to your loyal friends at Abel."

I hesitate in answering. I've already tried to escape the dream once, and it nearly got me killed. Do I really want to risk that again?

I take in a deep breath. "Si, I... I..."

"Yes?" He tilts his head to the side in interest.

"I'm... sorry. I have to go home."

He tenses. "Oh. Oh, that's the way it's gonna be, is it?"

"I'm-"

"Sorry." He grabs his gun at lighting speed and points it at my head. "Wrong choice."

I almost choke on my own breath. "Are you kidding me?"

"I can't let you go, not yet. And I don't think you can grab your gun before I can pull the trigger. So I suggest you start runnin'."

•

"Nearly there, Five. Nearly at my lair." He gives a mock evil laugh, but I don't smile. "See those bushes on the horizon? I've got a little hut hidden up there. Not much, I know, but I'm workin' my way up to the super villain base in a volcano."

I roll my eyes. "You should stick with the terrible puns, because at least those were stupidly funny and not just stupid."

"I'm not sayin' it to be funny. I'm saying it because I'm the bad guy. We all know that. It's the way Abel works-black and white, saint and sinner, them and us. Everyone and then nasty Simon who only cared about himself."

"You know that's not true," I snap.

He does. He should. He knows some of the things I've done. Not the worst of it, but he knows I've done bad things. He knows I'm just as much of a sinner as he is.

"Do you believe in forgiveness, Five?" He asks, ignoring my previous comment. "What am I saying? Of course, you do. Me, I was brought up Catholic. All that repentance is part of the package. A few 'Hail Mary's and 'Our Father's and bob's your uncle. Only it's all rubbish. Even when I was a kid, I thought it made God seem like a total wuss, as if He's-as if He's some poor abused wife.

"You treat Him like shit and then the next day you come in with communion wine and a bunch of flowers tellin' Him, oh, you really love Him and won't He please take you back. I never saw how that could work-"

I slap him, hard. And I don't give him the chance to speak, since he's barely given that to me. "Two things. One: How dare you talk about God that way? Two: I don't know who the hell taught you what you just told me, but they were wrong. Dead. Wrong. God forgives, but He doesn't just give out blessings on a whim.

"You have to mean it when you say you're sorry. You have to make an effort to be better instead of just saying it to say it. You can't just talk the talk. And I'm not afraid of you. You may have a gun, but I know if you were gonna shoot me, you would've done it by now."

Simon doesn't say anything. He fixes his mask since it moved out of place because of how hard I slapped him, and continues onward. After another minute or two of running, he pushes a few bushes out of the way to reveal a door. Fishing out a key from his pocket, he unlocks it and pushes it open, revealing a dark, cluttered room.

He practically pushes me inside.

"Here we are. Home, sweet home." He huffs, smirking when he sees me grabbing my backpack strap. "No need to look so nervous. I didn't bring you here to kill you. Like you said, if I was gonna shoot you, I would've already done it."

"Then why did you bring me here?"

"Van Ark didn't trust me, you know. Didn't trust anyone, but he wasn't as sneaky as he thought. I managed to find out where all his bases were, not just the ones he wanted me to know about. Since he died, I've been trolling through them, lookin' for-well, I'm sure you can guess."

I blink, remembering how Van Ark claimed his treatments would cause him to regrow his hand after he cut it off.

"Did you find it?" I asks.

"No, although I did find a few things. One of them being files about you."

I tense, and he grins smugly.

"Don't worry. I burned 'em, but not before lookin' through 'em first. You've got quite a record, and your name suits you, although I bet you never found a keychain with your name on it, Miss C-"

"Don't you dare," I growl, but he doesn't seem effected by my threat.

"Either way, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. In a little underground lab, I did find something else-a certain stack of research about a certain company called Comansys. I know you're interested in 'em. Been listenin' into that chatterbox Sam, and you know me. I do like to be helpful."

He grabs the stack of files off a nearby desk and holds them out to me. "Here. A present for you. Van Ark's notes on Comansys. Half of it's in code, but what I could decipher made for very interesting reading."

I hesitate, and Simon grits his teeth before shoving it into my arms. "Take it, for God's sake! Only, please... just one favor. Tell them all you found it yourself. Let Jenny, let everyone think I'm dead. After all, I should be. Now go. Go!"

But I don't, and that only makes him angrier. I look down at the notes, then set them down on the desk again. Simon glares, and he opens his mouth to speak, but I raise up a hand to silence him.

I walk towards him, stopping only an inch or so from him. He tenses, probably thinking I'm going to slap him again.

But I don't.

I hug him, and that causes him to tense up even more, as if he expects me to stab him in the back of something. I take in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"I forgive you."

Simon gasps sharply, just like I knew he would, and he stands there in shock after I pull away.

I grab the notes and leave, not bothering to look back.

A/N: Hello! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please be sure to vote and comment. Thank you and have a blessed day!